


Madam Negan

by SuperPrincessPea



Category: The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/F, F/M, Femme Fatale, I went a little crazy, Negan is a woman, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8361013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperPrincessPea/pseuds/SuperPrincessPea
Summary: Negan wasn’t the man that Rick had expected but a woman who looked like she’d walked out of a man's wildest fantasy or maybe she was the stuff of nightmares. A femme fatal, beautiful, deadly and he was already on his knees.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea half conceived on my laptop since the end of last season so since its the premier tonight, (at least for the lucky ones :p who aren't in the UK like me, argh, gotta wait until tomorrow night!), I thought I would throw it out there...

The sounds of the whistles faded to silence. She knew everything was in place. The carefully constructed plan had worked its magic and she prepared herself now. The lights that surrounded the clearing danced eerie shadows inside the walls of the RV. It was the shadows that she watched, focusing on every flicker as she became Negan and everything her people expected.

She couldn’t remember when her real name had slipped from existence, but like civilisation it had disappeared until only Negan remained. 

Nobody knocked on the door of the RV. A person didn’t summon Negan. They arrived and then they waited. It didn’t matter if they waited two minutes, twenty or indefinitely.  _ They  _ waited. She was God. Rick Grimes and his people had been given their shock now they were going to get their awe.

She smoothed down her hair, fingers caressing along the silky strands until they tiptoed down her hourglass figure and the clothes that accentuated every curve. She knew she oozed glamour, power and seduction from the way she moved to deep burgundy of her lips. 

It was time. Her hand wrapped around the handle of the RV letting the door fall open to announce her arrival. Head high, shoulders back, just like Madam always insisted. Feet gliding down the steps with the grace born from a lifetime of dancing until she was standing before the prisoners.

This was theatre and she revelled in it. Standing in the spotlight of eyes, all on her, all waiting for her. She drank every moment of their full wide eyed attention as her lips curved into a slow smile. It wasn’t malevolence she enjoyed but sheer power; the only thing that made her heart race in a way nothing else ever could. 

“That ones the leader,” Simon pointed diligently to the bearded man who was central in the line up.

_ Rick Grimes. _ Gregory had told her Rick’s name. In fact, he’d been happy to tell her just about anything she wanted to know. He was weak, not to be trusted and if Rick hadn’t saved his life then she might not have been standing in this clearing so easily.  As long as that imbecile Gregory controlled Hilltop then Negan controlled Hilltop.

She studied Rick, wondering exactly what kind of man he was while he stared at her with a mixture of terror and confusion, his bottom lip quivering, his breathing uneven. This was the man who has butchered her people and now he looked like he might cry. Not just a single tear but an entire flood. Negan could hardly help the pitying laugh that escapes her lips as she stepped even closer to inspect his people. They were all hers, all twelve of them in a terrified little row. Waiting for her mercy, her whim, her vengeance, they were on their knees and utterly vulnerable to whatever she decided. 

Negan stared at her captives long and hard, allowing the silence build into a tension so electric that she could feel it caressing over every inch of her skin. 

She squeezed tight to the end of the baton which she held in her palm. It was her weapon of choice, lovingly given to her by a New York cop who had found his way to the Sanctuary as the world fell down. The baton she named Lucille after her first victim and she was sleek, cool and unyielding just like her master. 

Negan flicked her wrist, a delicate movement but just enough for the satisfying pop pop of metal grinding against metal as the baton extended and said its deadly greeting to her new friends.

They were going to remember this night, they were going to remember  _ that  _ noise and they were going to remember kneeling before her.

“I want to thank you all for joining me here this evening,” the smile on her lips crept to her eyes, making them smoulder. She knew she had total control and revelled in every moment of it. “I. Am. Negan.”

She let her name reverberate and fill every inch of their minds, searing its way into their memories so that the mere mention, the mere memory of it would be enough to call forth the helplessness and terror of this very night. 

“Did you enjoy our game today? Run, Run, Run… yet here you are.” 

Negan stepped in front of the boy, leaning down to get a better look into his one eye. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t cower, he looked at her with a hard stare that betrayed his age. She laughed, delighted. It wasn’t everyday that someone looked her in the eye like that. Not anymore. Negan flicked the hat off his head with the end of her baton and caught the jumpy reaction of Rick Grimes. Then the familiarity set in, she couldn’t quite explain it but there it was, “baby Grimes?”

They didn’t need to say the answer for her to know it. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, digesting this morsel of information before her eyes fell back to the little cowboy. “Cheer up. You’ll only need one eye for this.”

She placed the end of her baton under Rick’s chin to tilt his head towards her “You’ve been a very silly little boy Rick Grimes. You’ve made a very big mistake. Did you think you could get away with killing my people? You thought what you had was something big, something special, something untouchable.” She laughed, “all men do.  I’m sorry to disappoint you Rick Grimes but you were wrong. Deadly wrong.”

Negan stood back, she wanted to watch all the faces of her captives as she laid down the new world order. “You are all mine. You’re going to be working for me. Your possessions belong to me. You give me what I want, when I want it or you die. My rules are very simple and they are not to be broken. You kneel, you live. You fight, you die.”

She walked along the line inspecting every face, studying every reaction. There were some beautiful women in this group but they didn’t intimidate her. Beautiful women were her currency. She traced one finger over the pouty latin lips that were set in a hard line and she could feel them tremble beneath her fingertips.

“What's your name?” she asked.

The woman’s jaw clenched. Negan could see the choices running around her head, to answer or not, to live or die. “Rosita,” she said eventually. 

“Rosita,” Negan rolled the R. Good choice, she didn’t want the game to end so soon and with such pretty merchandise. Because no matter how much they didn’t want to at first, the pretty girls always came to her for the life she could offer and all she expected in return was loyalty.

There was a man hunched over, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his matted hair covering his face. She stood in front of him and waited the split second before his eyes began to run along her body to rest on her face. He was injured, she assumed not bitten or he would have been shot dead by one of her men. He held her gaze. 

“You look like you want to say something?” she baited him.

He swallowed hard, eyes downcast back to the dirt, “no ma’am.”

“Good.”

At the end of the line her eyes connected with Simon’s and she found strength in the admiration that filled them. She trusted Simon, at least as far as a woman can ever trust any man. Which in Negan’s opinion wasn’t very far but it had been two years and Simon hadn’t faltered once in his loyalty. Before the end he had been a loyal patron of the Sanctuary. She rewarded him with a smile before turning back to the prisoners. 

Negan wore seduction like it was her own perfume and she’d wielded it from the moment her body had turned into curves and the boys had started to notice her. She knew how to catch a man's eye and all men, even the ones loyal to their wives or the ones kneeling in terror, looked. It was always the same look, hunger. All except the curly haired one who had nothing but hatred. 

“Now I’m a reasonable woman. But I’m going to need some satisfaction for my people that you murdered. And I always get my satisfaction. So we’re going to play a little game. Do you like games Rick Grimes?”

Rick swallowed hard but didn’t answer. 

Her mouth twitched into a smile as she stood directly in front of him. “When I ask a question, I require an answer. Do. You. Like. Games?”

His baby blues flicked oh so briefly to hers, “no.”

“More's the pity.” She leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I love to play.”

Negan had chosen the person she wanted to sacrifice from almost the moment she had stepped out of the motorhome but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to fuck with them. She liked to play games. Games instilled terror and terror had created her an army.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go, eeny, meeny, miny, moe. My mother told me to pick the very best one, and... You. Are. it.”

The silence became screams and the still became people falling to their knees. 

She rose her baton, “anybody falls out of line and we’ll play this game all night. Now you can scream, you can cry....”  her eyes darkened, “I think you’ll all be doing that.” 

This was the moment that everyone was waiting for and she needed to do it well. 

The first blow landed hard and fast but the man at her feet took it like a champ, clawing from the floor for the next one and then the next. 

“Aaron, no,” his people wailed but she ignored their pleas. 

Negan hit, blow after blow until there was nothing recognisable left of his soft curly hair and her hand throbbed in pain.

Like she always did Negan remembered the first time she had raised this baton to take a human life. The very moment she had crossed the line to murderer. There had been more since and there would be more still but she always remembered that first night when she had killed Madam Lucille, wiping the smile off her old face and relishing every last blow. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
